Squeeze Me In
by kinseyjo
Summary: They keep you late workin' that over time and I don't ever see you no more... Songfic! Garth and Trisha!


A/N: So the other day Rach and I were texting (while she should have been doing school and I should have been working – bad us!) about the three Garth and Trisha duets… here's my contribution! Oh, and for once it's not 1st person Liv's POV! It's 1st person from Liv AND Elliot's POVs! Tell me how I am at writing from his POV and I might do it more often. Thanks guys! I know you'll be honest but bet GENTLE:-) R&R XO, Kinsey J

--

I miss my girl. The damn FBI is taking her away from me and I'm about to start buying into my partner's conspiracy theories. I shake my head and look down at the picture on my desk. It was taken last summer at our wedding. She's standing in front of me, leaned back against my chest, smiling that amazing Olivia Stabler smile, our fingers threaded together over her stomach. God, she's beautiful. Too bad I feel like I haven't seen her _since_ the day I gave her my last name. I feel someone's eyes on me and I glance up to see our department psych guy looking at me.

"Note from your wife," he says with a smile.

I take the folded paper from his hand and open it up.

_I miss you._

The simple line in her scrawling cursive brings a smile to my face. I grab a pen from the cup on my desk and jot a note back to her before handing the paper back to George.

_I miss you too. __Lunch today? 12:30? Call me._

"Thanks," George says with an eye roll. "I'll pass it to her after study hall."

Rising from my chair, I laugh and clap him on the back. "Thanks, doc. You're a good man."

"Huang running errands now?" my partner asks.

I smile. "You got it, John. You got a love note for my wife?" I ask.

"I deliver them in person," he remarks sarcastically.

I laugh heartily, knowing the chances of my wife actually having an affair with the older detective are non-existent.

_Honey, I know you got a good job  
You're out there making all that dough  
They keep you late working that overtime  
And I don't ever see you no more  
I guess you're not checking your message machine  
Seems like you're never in  
But I've got a hunch if we can just do lunch  
I could get your attention again_

--

I miss my husband. He's so busy working… seems like he has been since we got married last summer. I glance down at the picture on my desk. It was taken at our wedding – he's standing behind me, my head resting on his chest, our fingers tangled together in front of my stomach. I'm smiling like I've never been that happy in my life (I hadn't) and he looks like he just won the lottery (which he did, if I do say so myself). He's so handsome. My whole life I have said guys were hot, or sexy, or cute… El… he's just such a handsome man.

I glance up at the knock on my closed office door. "Come in," I say.

The SVU psychiatrist and my colleague at the FBI, George Huang, pokes his head in my office. "Elliot sent you a note back," he said with a grin. "I told him I'd bring it to you after study hall."

I laugh. I'm not sure when we appointed George our errand boy, but he does it without complaints – serious ones anyway. I wave him in and he sits down in the chair across from me, handing me the note. I scan it quickly and laugh.

"Need me to take anything back to him?"

I glance up from the note with a grin. "You didn't read it?" I ask.

"Liv, it's personal! Even though I don't _love_ being your errand boy, I wouldn't ever read one of these notes. You know that," he says.

I nod. He's right. I do. "It just says to call him if I can do lunch today," I explain.

"Well then I'll leave you to it," he says, rising from the chair in front of my desk.

"Thanks," I say as I pick up the phone on my desk and dial the number for the special victims unit. As George pulls the door shut behind him I punch in my husband's extension.

"Detective Stabler," he says, answering on the second ring.

"Hello, Detective, this is Agent Stabler with the FBI," I say seriously.

"Hello, I've been waiting for your call," he replies just as professionally, almost making me laugh.

"I wanted to confirm our appointment for today. Can I meet you at your office?" I ask.

"I think I can make it," he answers.

"Great. I'll see you later then," I say.

"Okay," he replies.

"Bye, baby," I whisper.

"Bye Liv," he laughs, hanging up the phone.

I check my watch to see how long I have to wait until I can see my husband. Two hours. Ugh. Two hours too long. And two hours for a case to come in. He's been busy lately. I know two hours without getting tied up is non-existent in the SVU.

_Whoever said its a mans world  
Don't know what he's talking about  
You've got me working around the clock  
Honey, trying to figure you out  
I know time is money  
But there's more to life honey  
Than how much you can spend  
You've got to make a little time for the good times  
Honey, can you squeeze me in?_

--

"Munch, Stabler. My office," my captain walks by, leading the way into his office.

Shit. There went my hot lunch date. John and I follow Captain Cragen into his office while he gives the details on the case he's sending us on. I take the file he hands me as we walk out the door. Just as I'm about to flip open my cell phone to call Olivia, it vibrates in my hand.

"Stabler," I say, flipping it open.

"Hi, honey. I can't make lunch, something came up. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, babe. John and I just got sent out anyway. We'll do something later this week."

"Okay. Well… I'll see you at home tonight, okay?"

"Okay, baby. I love you."

"Love you," she tells me right before I hear her hang up the phone.

_Whoever said its a mans world  
Don't know what he's talking about  
You've got me working around the clock  
Honey, trying to figure you out  
I know time is money  
But there's more to life, honey  
Than how much you can spend  
You've got to make a little time for the good times  
Honey, can you squeeze me in?_

--

"Honey? Are you here?" I call out to my empty house. I walk into the kitchen to find a note on the table.

_Livvie _(he always calls me that when he's in a particularly ass-kissy mood),

_I'm sorry honey. Got stuck at the office. I'll be home pretty late tonight. Maybe we could do a late dinner at home Friday? I'm sorry!_

_I love you,_

_El_

Well dammit. Oh well. This late dinner at home thing might be kind of fun, though. I walk to the calendar hanging in the kitchen and grab a marker out of the junk drawer. I draw a big red heart around Friday the third. Our six month anniversary. He remembered. I love that man.

--

I always feel bad about cancelling on Liv. The few thousand times I cancelled on my first wife are part of what led to our divorce. Only a small part, but still. I don't like failing people. Especially Olivia.

"Stabler, get out of here. Go home to your wife. I've got this," John says, interrupting my thoughts.

"Don't have to tell me twice," I say, standing up and shrugging into my jacket. "You sure?" I ask, even though I know what he'll say.

"Go."

"Thanks John. I'll see you tomorrow," I say on my way out the door.

I make it downstairs to the Navigator Liv picked out for my birthday last year in record time. Zipping through the New York City streets out to Queens as quickly as I can (believe it or not, you can still find a traffic jam in New York City at midnight), I think about the beautiful girl I have waiting at home for me.

--

I hear his key in the lock and I glance up from where I'm watching Jay Leno on the couch. "Hey sweetie," I say.

"Hi. I missed you, Mrs. Stabler," he says.

"Missed you too," I reply, tipping my head up for a kiss. He flops down on the end of the couch and pulls me into his lap.

"How's work?" he asks.

"Meh. Just another day away from you," I tease.

"Ooh. The guys are right. We _are_ disgusting," he replies, wrinkling his nose, eliciting a laugh from me.

"So, dinner on Friday. I thought maybe I could make manicotti," I suggest, rattling off the name of his favorite Italian dish.

"That sounds great, honey. I was going to cook, though," he says.

"I got it, El. Don't worry," I smile.

--

This is not a phone call I want to make. Liv's been trying to get a hold of me all day and I've been so frigging swamped I can't get back to her. I have a stack of notes delivered by George on my desk that I haven't even read yet. We got a huge break in the case… and I'm not going to make it home for our anniversary. Shit.

"Stabler," she answers on the third ring.

"It's me," I say.

"Elliot Stabler, you are not cancelling on me."

"I'm sorry baby. I'll make it up to you, I swear."

She sighs. "I know you will. I love you."

"I love you, Liv. I'll call you later."

"Okay. Bye," she says, hanging up.

I flip my phone shut and look at my partner. "Well?" he asks.

"Not happy. But better than I thought," I say.

--

Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit. Cancelled again. I slug back a glass of wine, trying to blink away the tears that are threatening the corners of my eyes. I had a feeling, but I'm still bummed. I kept trying to get a hold of him, calling, texting, even sending half a dozen notes with George on his scattered trips over to the 1-6. Each with no response. He finally called my cell phone at five-thirty, letting me know he wouldn't be home until midnight at the earliest. I grab the wine bottle and take a deep swig. I head into the living room and curl up in his recliner, letting the tears fall.

_I've got it circled in red on the calendar, baby  
You told me that tonight's the night  
I've got the champagne chilled  
I've got a gourmet meal, soft music and candlelight  
I try to get you on the phone I get stuck on hold  
I guess you keep getting sidetracked  
I've been faxing you love notes all day long  
But you don't ever fax me back_

--

There's my girl. Asleep. In my recliner. And judging by the half-bottle of wine next to her, quite possibly drunk.

"Liv, honey," I walk over to her and kiss her forehead gently. She doesn't stir. Yep. She's drunk. Passed out. I drop my jacket on the end of the couch and scoop her into my arms. She snuggles into my chest in her sleep, burying her head in my neck. I take her into our room and strip her down, tucking her into bed next to me. "I love you, honey," I whisper. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

_Honey, I know you got a good job  
You're out there making all that dough  
They keep you late working that overtime  
And I don't ever see you no more  
I guess you're not checking your message machine  
Seems like you're never in  
But I've got a hunch if we can just do lunch  
I could get your attention again_

_--_

A/N: Fluff and no smut, I know, but EO at least, right? Okay, if you've ever heard the song, you know it's kind of a fast, crazy song, but I thought this was a cute way to do it. R&R – don't forget to let me know if I did okay writing from Elliot's POV!! Thanks sweeties! XO, KJ -- PS! I just wanted to add this after i read bandb's review and re-read this story -- i know it kinda sounds like Liv crawled in the bottle to chase away her sadness about Elliot not being home, but that wasn't my intention. More of a ... accidentally drunk sort of thing. Sorry for any confusion: )


End file.
